Obliviate
by A plus
Summary: The unthinkable happens to Hermione, leaving her broken. Severus feels that he is missing memories of her, that things are being hidden from him. He will do anything to uncover the secret, but what he finds is not something he ever expected.
1. Chapter 1

Obliviate

x

x

1: Memories

x

Know-it-all,

incessant chatterer,

perfectionist,

he had no shortage of words to describe her.

He sat alone in his office, a half-drunk glass of amber firewhisky on the rough wooden table in front of him.

Beside the glass sat his Pensive, old and cracked but still functional. He had been using it all night.

Why was it that the harder he tried, the fewer memories he could find of her?

He sifted through his Pensive, pulling out memory after memory, searching for….something.

_He was in the lab…the one that had been set up in the Order's headquarters. He was teaching her to brew potions…healing potions that the Order would need. Her hair was pulled up, the curls restrained tightly at the nape of her neck._

He was drunk. He shouldn't be doing this, pulling memories out when he was this intoxicated.

_He was in the lab again. This time he was yelling. They both were. A metal stirring rod flew across the room, barely missing him before it hit the wall and clattered to the floor. She stormed out and slammed the door shut behind her._

Why was he doing this? What was he looking for?

_Dumbledore was telling him that he should do his part of the brewing at the Hogwarts lab and give her his excess to brew in the lab at Headquarters alone._

What had happened? He couldn't remember.

_He was in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place talking with Arthur Weasley, Dumbledore and Kingley. She enters the room. His eyes track her movements for a few moments before Dumbledore asks him for a word outside._

_He enters the lab at Headquarters to check on her progress. He barely has two words with her when Minerva enters and informs him that she needs to speak with him right away._

_Another memory, a smile…_

When had she ever smiled at him? _Why_ would she smile at him?

There was something missing.

What was he looking for? Something was being kept from him, of that he was sure. The harder they tried to keep the secret, the more desperate he became to know what it was.

Was that it? Were those all of them? She had been in the Order with him for nearly four years now, why was it that he did not have more memories of her?

His memories picked up again in the past year, although much of it was things he rather wished he didn't remember.

She had been devastated when her parents had been killed. That had been a rough blow. He had watched her in Order meetings, the red around her eyes informing them all that she was still grieving.

It took her six months to come to terms with their deaths, for the fire to return to her eyes. And just at the point that she had started to pull her life back together, the unthinkable had happened.

She was abducted and tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.

And now…

Well…what was there to say?

She had been broken, that much was obvious.

That spark, that light. He hadn't known he had relied on it until it was gone. Relied on it? He hardly even knew her. It was most definitely gone. Her eyes were dead and hollow now.

Why did he care so much? She was nothing to him, a former student, one of hundreds….

Why did he keep thinking about her?

Why did that same memory keep haunting him…the day she came home from the weeks she had spent in St. Mungos.

She looked so small and fragile in Weasley's arms, nothing like the fierce warrior he knew her to be, nothing like the woman who had stood up to him, had argued with him in his own lab.

Why had that sight shaken him so much?

"She can't walk?" He had mumbled to Dumbledore as they passed.

"She won't." The old man replied softly, implying that the damage was not physical but psychological.

The sight haunted him in a way he didn't understand. He had lived half his life in times of war, he had seen worse…much worse. Why was it that this bothered him so much?

In the weeks, the months that followed, Weasley and Potter had made taking care of their friend their top priority. There was always one of them by her side, forcing her to eat, brushing her hair, coaxing her out of bed to sit by the window.

He had been pleasantly surprised that after all those years of Hermione Granger taking care of the two boys, that they would step up and take care of her when she needed it.

He climbed the stairs on his way to the second floor library. Crossing the hallway, the open door to the washroom caught his eye. Two figures were silhouetted against the pale shower curtain. He stopped. Had a couple decided to shower together and not bothered to close the door?

The curtain was pulled aside, revealing a fully-clothed Ronald Weasley holding his friend under the water. A figure stepped into the doorway, blocking his view and making him realize that the small washroom held a third occupant.

Harry Potter glared at him before closing the door.

The months wore on and each day the two young men looked worst than the last.

He had confronted Dumbedore about it, but the old man refused to listen to reason.

"What's wrong with her?" He had demanded.

"That is none of your business."

The old man narrowed his eyes, regarding Severus suspiciously.

"Why do you care so much?"

He let out an exasperated sigh.

"She is a risk to the Order. Even I can see what she's doing to Potter. We have to discuss what is to be done with her if she doesn't recover."

"She will recover."

"But if she doesn't…"

Dumbledore hadn't answered him.

"Hermione Granger's welfare is none of your business, Severus. Concentrate on your duties and forget about her."

But he hadn't forgotten, he had watched her more closely whenever he had gotten the chance.

He had been standing in the shadows when the door to her room had opened and Weasley had slipped out, meeting Potter in the hallway.

"She says she doesn't want to be with me anymore, that she never will. She said it's over. Harry, I can't….I just can't do this tonight."

"I'll take care of her, Ron."

The boy tapped softly on the door and stepped inside.

He didn't leave until the morning.

The next day, Severus brewed quietly in his lab at Hogwarts when there was a tap at the door. He called for the visitor to come in but was surprised by who entered.

Harry Potter stood in his lab. Severus wanted to yell at him to get out, but he was stopped both by curiosity and by pity. The dark circles under the boy's eyes showed how rough things had been recently.

His eyes contained none of the impertinence, none of the distain they usually showed as he approached the potion master's desk. They showed only a vast weariness.

"It's about Hermione."

Severus stopped his work.

"Are you here to tell me what's wrong with her?"

"No."

"Then what do you want?"

"I wanted to see if you maybe had something she could do…some research you needed to be done. Some mindless work for her to do to keep her mind off of other things."


	2. Missing

2: Missing

In the weeks that followed, Hermione made some progress. She got out of bed…most days. She even spoke occasionally. But for the most part, she wandered around Grimmauld Place as if in a dream.

Severus gave her simple research assignments which she completed dutifully, but without the enthusiasm she had once had. At least these assignments got her out of bed and into the library.

That hollow, haunted look never left her eyes.

Severus went over the facts in his head again and again, sorting through what he knew.

1. She had spent a little over a year away doing research for the Order. No one knew where she was while she was gone and she had not spoken of it since she returned. As far as he knew, not even Potter of Weasley knew what she had been researching or where.

2. Six months after she had returned, her parents were killed in a targeted attack by the Death Eaters. He had not been able to stop it.

3. Another year had passed and she was moving on from her parents' deaths when everything fell apart. She had been abducted by Bellatrix Lestrange and tortured. It took them three days to find her. She had been treated in St. Mungo's for unknown injuries. As far as he could see, she was physically fine, but whatever had happened in her time with Bella had seemed to push her past her breaking point.

He wasn't sure what to make of these facts, of how to connect the dots. He didn't know why he even cared enough to want to. All he knew was that the five years since she had graduated from Hogwarts had been rough ones.

The first night she came to him he thought it was a dream.

He sat at a workbench in the Headquarters laboratory going over his notes. The only light in the room was a candle on the table that illuminated his work.

He looked up and there she was, barefoot and clad only in a thin white nightgown, standing at the edge of the light the candle cast in the dark room.

How had she entered so quietly?

She seemed more a ghost than a witch. Her skin was almost translucent in the faint light. Even her hair hung limply, lacking the life it had always possessed. He found himself unable to speak.

"A potion," she finally stated, her words echoing off the hard, stone walls. "I need a potion."

"You are a capable brewer."

"I need Dreamless Sleep potion." Ah, a Ministry-regulated potion, one which only a licensed potions master could brew and dispense.

He opened the cabinet and withdrew a vial for her. With his back still turned to her, he inquired, trying not to seem overly interested.

"Are you having nightmares?"

There were a few moments of silence before she answered.

"In a way."

He turned back towards her, staring at her haunted face in the flickering candlelight as he listened to her reply.

"Visions of that which I can never have, taunting me from behind my shut eyes."

The hollow, empty look in her eyes was gone, replaced by one of pure pain.

He reached out and pressed the small vial into her hand.

Her fingers closed around his, holding him there. She stared straight into his eyes.

"I have no past…and no future."

With that she left and the empty lab seemed even emptier as he was left to ponder her enigmatic words.

x

x

A week later, he stood in the kitchen, drinking a cup of tea while he read a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been left on the counter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her enter the room.

She reached in front of him to grab a spoon from the counter and a glimmer caught his eye.

He looked down at the bracelet she wore. It was silver, studded with dark sapphires. It was beautiful but also very familiar. He knew this bracelet and he knew that it was one-of-a-kind.

She grabbed the spoon and tried to withdraw her arm, but he caught her wrist.

"Where did you get that bracelet?" He asked sharply.

She looked up at him, startled by the sudden interrogation.

"I found it."

"Found it? Where did you find it?"

"In my room. Under the bed."

A tear leaked out of her eye under the pressure he was exerting on her slender wrist.

"Impossible."

"I found it," she insisted.

"That bracelet was my mother's."

He heard the door open behind them.

"Let her go."

It was Potter's voice.

He slipped the bracelet from her wrist and released her.

He turned to see the dark-haired wizard with his wand out and trained on him, green eyes blazing.

"What the hell is going on here?"

He pushed past the boy, shoving the bracelet into his pocket.

As soon as the door slammed shut, Hermione crumpled into Harry's arms.

x

Ten minutes later, Severus entered the gold-plated doors of Gringotts and approached the old Goblin at the front desk.

"Mister Snape, how can we help you today?"

"Something was stolen from my vault. I want it investigated."

"Yes, sir. We will make a full report. This is highly uncommon."

He was ushered into a private office as they took down the details of his story.

Soon, the table was covered with all of his account records.

He turned the bracelet over in his hand, tracing the worn initials engraved in the back, _E.P._

The old Goblin eyes him carefully.

"It says here in the log that you removed the bracelet three and a half years ago."

"That's impossible."

"See for yourself."

The Goblin pushed the book towards him.

He looked down to see his own signature.

"It's faked."

"It's tied to your magical signature too. No one could have taken it but you."

He stared at the sharp black script on the white page.

The Goblin spoke.

"Sometimes people forget when they remove objects."

"There was no reason I would have removed it."

But it was him, he knew the security measures at Gringotts and could come up with no theory that had anyone but him removing the bracelet from the vault.

They made him a copy of the page in the logbook and he left.

x

A few nights later, she entered the laboratory again.

He had not expected to see her, had not expected her to return after what he had done to her. This time, she stood at the edge of the light so that her bare toes were the only part of her illuminated.

He looked at them as he spoke.

"I apologize for my behavior the other day. There was...a misunderstanding." He moved his hand to the place on his desk where his copy of the logbook sat. _Why had he removed the bracelet? Why did he not remember removing it? How had it ended up in No. 12 Grimmauld Place under Hermione Granger's bed?_

She stepped into the light and nodded slowly.

She looked different than she had recently. Instead of the lifeless pale that had engulfed her, her cheeks appeared pink, flushed. Her neck was damp even in the cold room.

"Are you feverish?" he asked, reaching for a fever-reducer he had on his desk.

"No," she said quickly.

"I need some more dreamless sleep potion."

"You're still having the same dreams."

"No….other dreams….different dreams."

Even in the darkened room, he could tell her cheeks got darker at this statement.

What sort of dreams were these that were keeping her up at night?

He pulled out a vial and handed it to her.

"Thank you."

She retreated back into the shadows and he listened to her soft footsteps fade off into the night.

x

He couldn't work the next day, couldn't focus.

He paced back and forth in his office, trying to connect pieces that he couldn't connect.

Turning towards the bookshelf, he pulled down a book. It was dusty. How long had it been since he had opened it?

It was a book of poems his mother had read to him as a child. He didn't open it often, saving it for times he needed its calming influence.

He opened to the poem about the cat, his mother's favorite.

A piece of parchment fell out of the book and fluttered to the ground. Severus knelt down and picked the thin piece of paper off of the dusty wooden surface, bringing it to the light.

It was his own handwriting.

_The Farm 07 03 48 29 330_

A place, apparition coordinates. A chill went down his spine. He had no memory of writing it, but the handwriting was unmistakably his.

Something deep in his soul told him without a doubt that this was important.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and apparated.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the brightness. He had come from a dark room in house in London on an overcast day. Wherever he was now, it was far enough from London that the weather was different. Here, the sky was clear and blue.

Wherever he was now, it was a blindingly bright afternoon. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight.

Finally, he was able to open them all the way, slowly taking in his surroundings.

He was in a field somewhere. In the distance there was a white farmhouse and an old, wooden barn. Past that, a small pond. The scene was surreal. He walked towards the house as if in a dream. In his black robes, he felt out of place in the scene, a black dot in a vast landscape of blues, greens, and yellows.

As he got closer to the farmhouse, he could see a group of children playing outside. There was a man around his own age chopping wood against a block.

As he approached, the man saw him and set down the ax.

The man took a step towards him and smiled.

"Severus."

He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the stranger.

"Do I know you?"

The man opened his mouth the speak, but then shut it again. A woman appeared at his side.

"What are you doing here?"

He ignored her question as words started tumbling out of his mouth.

"What is this place? Where am I? Who are you?"

The man opened his mouth again, but his wife gently touched his arm.

"Maybe we should contact Dumbledore."

The group of children had stopped playing and were now huddled in a group, watching him.

He turned towards them as out of the corner of his eye he saw the couple send off a silvery patronus with a message.

The children all had freckled skin and straight, wispy white-blond hair. He didn't count how many there were, but noted that these people bred faster than the Weasleys. They all watched him with wide, blue eyes.

Then out of the mass of fair-haired children, a small girl he had not noticed before stepped forward. She was not like the other children. Her hair hung in black curls, framing her wide, brown eyes. He was reminded of a picture of his mother as a child that his grandmother had once shown him.

The girl couldn't have been more than two or three years old, yet she stared at him with intensity he had not known that one of that age could possess.

She opened her mouth to say something and he dropped to one knee in front of her, bringing him face-to-face with her.

"Daddy."


	3. The Safehouse

3: The Safehouse

"_Daddy."_

He had never known that his whole world could be shattered with a single word.

It couldn't be true.

If there was ever anything that he had been sure of, it was that he was not a father. To have that basic belief shaken put everything else into question.

When was the last time he had even been with a woman?

It simply couldn't be true.

Could it?

He wanted to not believe it, but that little girl had made her declaration with an intense conviction that he couldn't deny.

He stood, still in shock and looked at the couple.

Both seemed to be searching for words, but neither made any move to deny the girl's assertion.

"What is going on here? Who is she?" His voice cracked with desperation.

"Severus, if you would just wait until Dumbledore gets here."

Dumbledore, of course. Who else could it be?

He knew if he wanted answers, he didn't have much time. He needed to find out who this girl was…and more importantly, who her mother was.

In a shocked rage, he ran the few steps to the porch of the farmhouse and slammed the door open, barely hearing the call of, "Severus, wait!" from behind him.

He tore through the house searching for a clue, for anything that would give him more information as to who this girl was….and who her mother was.

Who could her mother be?

He had no idea, although on some level he already knew.

What else would connect the pieces he had been trying to connect?

He told himself it was impossible.

He slammed open door after door like a madman. What was he looking for?

The kitchen, a sitting room, a pantry, a child's room….no it was a boy's room, then he opened another door. The room was obviously shared by three children, all girls. There were three small beds. The first was covered by a pink blanket and scattered dolls and stuffed animals. The second bed had a light purple blanket and was strewn with child's drawings of rainbows, of cats, of houses. The third bed had a dark blue blanket, tucked in crisply at the corners. He approached it slowly. On top of the neatly tucked blanket were three piles of books. They were picture books, traditional wizarding stories mixed with muggle ones he did not recognize. The girl couldn't be old enough to be able to read them, but already, she was fascinated. He knew this was _her_ bed.

There was a small table next to the bed containing various belongings. He reached down and picked up the delicate silver picture frame. The letters "Catherine" were engraved along the side.

He looked at the pictures and all his fears came true.

It was a wizarding photograph. He was in it.

He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes. In the photograph he looked…happy. He wore an expression he had not even known himself to be capable of.

He was not the only one in the photograph.

In the picture, he held her in his arms, lovingly, protectively. Her mouth broke into a smile as he reached down and tenderly kissed her cheek through her brown curls. Hold, kiss, smile, hold, kiss, smile, hold, kiss, smile. He was unable to look away as the photograph looped over and over again.

How was it even possible?

Somehow this revelation made everything both easier and harder to understand.

What had she done? And how? He felt his curiousity turn into rage.

The bitch. Had he slept with her? He must have. She must have drugged him, stolen his seed, obliviated him, had his child and hidden it from him. Had her strange behavior over the last year merely been because she felt guilty? When he got his hands on her….

He needed to know…and he would do whatever it took to get the truth from her.

He slipped the photograph from its frame and held it tightly in his hand until the edge crinkled slightly.

Lifting his head, he looked out the dusty glass of window to see Dumbledore approaching in the distance, striding purposefully towards the farmhouse with a furious expression on his face.

Severus knew he didn't have much time.

A quiet pop and split-second later he was racing through the front door of Grimmauld place.

Dumbledore must have known, he must be a part of this. He had to find her before the old man found him. Severus' heart raced as he took the stairs two at a time. He knew where he would find her, he just had to get to her before the old man arrived.

He threw open the library door. There were others in the library, but all conversations ceased the moment he opened the door.

Potter and Lupin were in a conversation by the fireplace, they seemed frozen, staring at him, startled apparently by the violence and urgency of his dramatic entrance.

At the small table in the center of the room sat both Miss Weasely and the subject of his search.

She looked up from her book and he knew he had jumped to the wrong conclusion. It was not the look of a woman who had manipulated him and hidden a child from him. She didn't know.

With a cold feeling in his stomach, he realized that he wasn't the only one who had been obliviated.

He strode to where she had been sitting, focused on her as if nothing else even existed. She stood up quickly as he approached, uncertain at his strange behavior.

Grabbing her arm roughly, he hissed urgently in her ear.

"Do you feel sometimes like you're missing things…pieces of your past…memories…"

"Yes." She whispered.

"I need you to trust me." She had no reason to.

She looked deeply into his eyes.

"I do."

They could hear the front door slam open.

"Severus Snape," a voice bellowed from below, "don't you dare leave this house."

He wrapped his arms around her and instantly they were in a busy intersection in Muggle London. It was a shock to the senses coming from the dark, quiet library of Grimmauld Place, even more so for her who had not left the house since she returned from the hospital a year ago.

Severus hailed a cab and opened the door, motioning for her to get in.

She didn't move.

"Get in the cab."

"I….I…."

"You said you trusted me."

She glanced around her. The implication was clear. He hadn't asked her if she trusted him more than Dumbledore.

"Please."

He didn't know what made him say it, maybe desperation. It worked.

She stepped into the waiting vehicle and he slipped in behind her, glancing over his shoulder for the wizard he was expecting to appear any moment.

"Where to?" the driver asked casually.

Severus glanced at the young witch.

"Westminster Abbey," she blurted out.

He pulled out his wand and discretely cast a 'muffliato'.

"It was the first thing that popped into my head," she told him.

"It's fine. It'll buy us some time."

She glanced out the back window, presumably to see if they had been followed.

"I don't know if this is such a good idea. Dumbledore…"

"I have something that I need to tell you. I have a feeling that Dumbledore is trying to prevent that from happening. Something is obviously going on with you. I don't know what it is and I don't have any answers, but I have another piece of the puzzle. A piece you need to know about. Give me ten minutes. Then you can leave if you want to and go running back to Dumbledore."

The cab came to a halt and Hermione silently transfigured some pieces of parchment from her pocket into muggle currency and exited the vehicle.

They found a small, unused chapel within the church and ducked into it. Severus warded the door behind them and cast a distraction charm to prevent any visitors. When he turned back around, she had her back to him and was facing the small altar.

There was a small stained-glass window in the chapel and the light fell through it, casting pieces of red, purple, and blue against the pale stone. The room was silent but for some distant bells.

"I found some apparition coordinates. They took me to a safehouse. There was a girl there. I believe I am her father. I know this all sounds very unlikely, but I found this inside the house." He pulled out the photograph and handed it to her.

She studied it for a minute and then looked up.

"You think I am the girl's mother."

"Yes."

She handed him back the photograph.

"I'm sorry, but it's impossible."

"That's what I thought, but the picture…"

"No, you don't understand. It's just not possible."

There was a pained expression on her face.

"I can't…I can't have children." A single tear leaked out the corner of her eye.

He hadn't expected this.

"There is no way that I could have…."

She stopped mid sentence.

"Unless.."

"Unless?"

"Is she more than a year old?"

"Yes."

She sank to her knees on the stone floor.

"When Bellatrix tortured me….she cast a curse specifically….specifically to make me unable to bear children…..said she didn't want any more mudbloods running around, said she didn't want me dirtying up the bloodlines…." She trailed off.

So that was what these past months had been about.

"I had always accepted the possibility that I might die in all this. But I thought, I thought if I just survived that I could have a future…but after she cursed me…"

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

He knelt down on one knee, bringing him down to her level.

"I didn't even know that I wanted a child so badly until I couldn't have one."

She leaned forward, supporting herself on her arms, until she was almost on her hands and knees. He wasn't sure what to do, how to deal with this distraught woman.

"Her name is Catherine."

Hermione's head snapped up.

"What did you say?"

"Her name is Catherine. My…your….our daughter."

Her mouth dropped open.

"That's….that was my grandmother's name. It was what I was going to name…if I ever had a daughter….." She paused, "Oh god, this is real, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"We were…we were lovers?"

"Apparently."

She stood up slowly and he followed.

"How long has this been going on? Since I was in school?" She looked at him, scandalized.

"How am I supposed to know?"

"Would you have…?"

"No."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously.

"With a student?"

"Absolutely not."

She looked unconvinced and he lashed out at her defensively.

"Do you make it a practice of sleeping with your professors? I was always mystified as to why your marks were so high in your other classes."

That earned him a quick slap in the face.

"How dare you."

She turned her back to him and stood silently for a few moments. Then finally she turned back around.

"Can I see that photograph again?"

He pulled it out of his robes and handed it to her. She took it and studied it for a few moments, obviously finding it as unbelievable as he had.

"That glint, what was that?" She handed him back the photograph and he watched it. Sure enough, when his arms wrapped around her, there was a quick glint of something gold in the corner of the photograph that he hadn't noticed before.

"Are we…were we…married?"

He hadn't even considered that possibility. It was enough for him even to imagine them as lovers.

He stood there helplessly as she took control of the situation in her bossy, organized way.

"We need more time, more information."

If Dumbledore was looking for them in London, he would find them soon enough.

"I have a cabin. It's unplottable. No one knows of it." He was a spy, he had to have a place that neither side knew about in case he was betrayed by either, betrayed by both. He had never brought anyone there.

"I'm going to the Ministry first."

He nodded. "I'll gather supplies while you're there."

"Can you get me a pensive? There are some thing I want to look at...some memories, some dreams."

"Yes."

"Meet me back here in an hour."

With that she was gone. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The idea that he would choose Hermione Granger as a lover seemed ridiculous, although not even as ridiculous as the idea that she would choose him. He wasn't sure what he was getting into, but he knew he couldn't stop until he uncovered the truth. There was a burning in his left arm and he pulled back the sleeve of his robes to see the dark mark writhing in an angry black. His preparations would have to wait.


	4. Memories, Fantasies, Dreams

4: Memories, fantasies, dreams

Hermione walked down the black marble hallway of the ministry holding her breath and praying that no one would be looking for her there. Thankfully, she saw no Order members as she peered out from beneath her brown curls. She had no doubt that after Severus' dramatic display in the library, the Order would be in a flurry. They would be looking all over for her...she just hoped that no one would be looking in the ministry.

She kept her head down, walking through the crowded hallway and trying to blend in with the bureaucrats.

Security was high around here, but she had the right connections. She slipped into Seamus Finnigan's office, secretly glad that he was not a member of the Order.

"Hermione. I haven't seen you in a long time!" Of course, she thought to herself. She hadn't left Harry's house in how many months?

"I take it this isn't a social call?"

She took a deep breath.

"No, Seamus. I need to get into the hall of records."

He looked uncomfortable.

"I'm not technically supposed to…"

"I just need five minutes. Please. It's for the Order," she lied.

"Fine. Five minutes."

She checked her wand at the counter. No magic was allowed around the records. They were not supposed to be tampered with or altered.

Hermione walked along row after row of large filing cabinets until the found the section for marriage licenses. She pulled open the row of G's, thumbing through until she found the file marked "Granger."

Before she even opened it, she could tell by the weight of the file that it was empty.

She stared at the empty folder. A tiny corner of parchment clung to it, obviously left from when someone had torn out whatever had been inside. The folder hadn't always been empty. Her suspicions were confirmed.

She made her way quickly towards the exit. There were only twenty minutes left until she was supposed to meet him back at the Abbey.

Suddenly a strong hand closed around her arm and she was pulled into a side-corridor. She panicked for a second before she saw the familiar face.

His green eyes blazed at her from behind his glasses.

"Hermione, where have you been?" He hissed.

She tried to pull her arm free, but Harry didn't let go. Instead he reached inside her robe and grabbed her wand. He had never treated her like this before, never held her by force.

"Dumbledore is looking for you."

"I know."

She bit her lip, unsure of how much to share with her friend.

"You've been with Snape," he accused.

"Yes."

He let go of her arm.

"What is it with you and Snape?"

"I don't know."

"But it's something then."

She hesitated a moment too long to deny it.

"Yes."

"_What_ is it?"

"I don't know. I would tell you if I knew, Harry, but I don't."

He ran his hand through his messy hair.

"I knew there was something going on. I didn't say anything because I wasn't sure, but I suspected something."

"What...what do you mean?"

"It seemed like there was something going on between the two of you…a few years back. But then it sort of went away. There were some looks, some odd moments, but then when you got back from your year and a half away researching, it was like it had never happened. I thought maybe I had been imagining it all along."

She nodded and he could see her thinking, withdrawing into herself.

"What aren't you telling me, Hermione?"

"I don't know."

He gave her a skeptical look.

"Give me time, Harry."

"Hermione," he said in a warning tone.

"I need to sort this out." He had been there for her when she needed it most, but this she needed to do alone.

He sighed. Whatever was going on, it was the first time he had seen her actually look alive since her fight with Bellatrix. He handed her back her wand.

"Go."

x

x

Night had fallen by that point. She sat on a bench outside the Abbey nervously tapping her foot.

She glanced at her watch. He was late. She didn't know him very well, but she had always thought of him as the type of man who was never late.

What if Dumbledore had found him? What if he had simply changed his mind about wanting to know what had happened?

What if something had happened to him? She tried to push the thought away.

She checked her watch again.

How long was she supposed to wait until it was obvious that he wasn't coming? What would she do then? Where would she go?

There was a sound in the bushes and she pulled out her wand, giving an audible sigh of relief when it was the wizard for whom she was waiting who stepped through.

"Put down the wand, Miss Granger."

"You're late. I didn't…I didn't know…"

He winced and she caught an odd reflection on his arm in the dim streetlights.

"Is that blood?"

"It's nothing. We need to go." He took off back into the shadows and she followed.

As she followed his dark figure, she couldn't help but think about the fact that she must have had sex with this man. She had been intimate with him, had been married to him, had a child with him and she didn't know him at all. It was hard to wrap her mind around.

When they reached a spot far out of view of muggles, he wrapped his arms around her and apparated.

The first thing that she noticed was the small cabin. They were on a cliff next to a dark forest. Everything seemed very quiet and still in the frozen moonlight.

He opened the door to the cabin and she stepped inside. As he lit the lamps, she got a better view of the interior. It was small. Tiny. He had obviously meant this place for no one but himself.

This was his place, she realized, the one secret he kept even from Dumbledore. This was where he would go if he was ever betrayed by both sides, if he was ever desperate. This was the place that only he knew about...and now he had brought her there.

"Have you eaten," he asked. She smiled. Such an ordinary questions seemed so strange in their circumstances.

"No."

"I will prepare something."

He entered the kitchen and she took the time to look around the small dwelling. It was truly as tiny as she had first assumed. They had entered into a small sitting room, containing only a desk and a chair. Off of the sitting room was one door that led to the kitchen and another that led to the small bedroom. She peered around the bedroom door to see the small single bed that the room contained as well as another doorway leading to a washroom.

She made her way back to the kitchen.

The cottage was utterly empty except for that which was necessary for survival. This was a place of last resort, a shelter to wait out a storm and nothing more. There were books, a few, but not for entertainment, not for higher intellectual pursuits. These were medical handbooks and guides to edible plants.

She slid open a drawer and was surprised to find a can-opener inside. It was just so…muggle. Then she understood. This place was meant to be usable with or without magic. This was his last resort. If his magic was damaged, if his wand was snapped, he would still be able to live here, to eat the stores of canned food in the pantry. The medical supplies, she realized consisted not only of healing potions, but also of muggle bandages and salves that he could use if he was no longer capable of spellwork. She shivered at the cold practicality of this place, at the terrible scenarios that needed to be imagined in order to be prepared for.

He placed two plates on the table.

"There is only one chair. Perhaps you could bring the one from the sitting room in here."

He had obviously never intended to share this place with anyone.

When she had pulled in the other chair, they sat down to their meal. It wasn't much, just some canned beans and vegetables, but she hadn't eaten all day. They ate in silence.

Finally when they had both finished, he cleared the table and brought the Pensive from where he had left it on the counter, placing it onto the splintered wood surface between them.

"How did you get into Hogwarts without Dumbledore finding you?"

"This isn't my Pensive. Being summoned gave me the opportunity to borrow one from the Malfoys."

She pulled her hand away from it.

He smirked.

"There is nothing to be afraid of. A Pensive is a Pensive. I am their friend, there are no dark spells attached to this object."

Reassured, although still a bit skeptical, she pulled the silvery threads from her mind and placed them into the object before her.

She looked at him uncertainly.

"Maybe you should look at some of these with me."

He nodded, "If you wish."

Before they plunged in, she left him with the enigmatic warning, "While we're in there, there are some parts I would prefer you not to see."

They were plunged into the first memory. _He recognized St. Mungo's right away. It was the dark curses ward. He had spent some time there himself. But he was not the patient in this memory, Hermione Granger was. The rest of the beds in the ward were empty._

_In the memory, she was sitting up in the bed, a look of pure anguish on her face. She had obviously just been given the news of her condition._

He heard familiar voices and turned the corner to find Albus and Minerva engaged in a hushed conversation.

_"You're not going to tell her?" Minerva hissed in disbelief.  
_

_"No."_

_"This is cruel."_

_"It is necessary."_

_She shook her head._

_"Dammit Minerva, don't you understand that telling her would just make things worse? To throw that whole other situation on her right now is the last thing she needs."_

He turned to find the non-memory Hermione beside him

"I never heard them, my whole world started spinning and I wasn't aware of anything else going on around me."

There was a mist as the memory ended and they were suddenly tossed into the next one.

The next was a dream, a memory of a dream. Instead of being three-dimensional like a real memory, it was more like a movie projected on a wall of a dark room, a two-dimensional image that flickered against the darkness.

_It was the face of a little girl with dark curls._

"That's her," he whispered.

"Catherine."

"I thought…I thought it was just my own mind torturing me….the dream of a child I could never have."

The next memory started. It was another dream and possessed the same flat, flickering quality as the previous one.

His mouth dropped open as he realized what he was looking at. _It was a woman...her...nude and very pregnant. In the memory she stood in front of a full-length mirror examining her form, rubbing her hands across the taut skin of her her pregnant belly._

"Don't look." The non-memory Hermione hissed at him, obviously embarrassed at how much of her memory-self he was seeing, "Turn around."

He complied with her request, facing out into the darkness instead of the image of the dream. He could see how this would have almost been a nightmare to a woman who could not conceive and understood why she had come to him for the dreamless sleep potion.

Daring a peek, he turned his head slightly. He half-expected her to yell at him, but she was preoccupied with the memory, staring at the image of her pregnant body of which she had no memory. She could not remember being pregnant, could not remember giving birth, and yet a child existed that was proof that all of that had happened. As hard as this situation was for him, men found out about offspring they never knew they had all the time...for a woman if was different. He understood that.

He sneaked another peak. He felt unbelievably attracted to the woman in the image. Even more so when he though of the fact that that was his child inside of her. He turned back towards the darkness and tried to think of other things.

A loud moan let him know that the next memory had started. His head whipped around to see what had happened.

_The visual of the memory was a headboard of a bed, his bed at Hogwarts to be more specific. By the movement in the view of the memory, by the sounds that accompanied it, he had no doubts that this was a memory of sex. Hot, dirty sex, to be more specific._

_Her head dropped down in the memory, revealing the dark grey blanket from his bed clutched tightly in her hands. It was clear that she was on her hands and knees getting fucked from behind._ His breath caught in his throat and he looked at the non-memory version of this woman, standing beside him with her mouth hanging open, as transfixed as he was on what she was seeing. It was almost hard to believe that this was the same woman who in the memory was currently uttering incoherent animal sounds.

_"You like that, don't you, you dirty little witch," a silky voice came from out of view in the memory._

The voice, which must have seemed familiar to her, but she wasn't able to quite place in the haze of dreaming was now unmistakably his.

_"Yesssss. Harder. Oh please, harder." There were brown curls splayed every which way on the pillowcase.  
_

_Silky black hair fell across her shoulder and into view and he sucked on her neck, bringing her towards release...and judging by the sounds, his own as well._

_Just before the memory ended, there was a soft whisper in his rough voice, "I love you."  
_

They pulled out of the memory and looked at each other from across the table, both breathing unevenly.

The cabin suddenly seemed very very small.

She reached across the table, gently touching his wrist.

"Maybe we should try…it might bring back some memories."

Her finger slipped underneath the rough fabric of his sleeve, gently caressing his wrist bone. He quickly jerked his arm away and grabbed the edge of the table tightly.

"Miss Granger. I do not think that would be appropriate."

x

x

* * *

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. And to those of you who haven't, please review this story!! Please please please. Reviews help me write faster._


	5. Advances

5: Advances

They pulled out of the memory and looked at each other from across the table, both breathing unevenly.

The cabin suddenly seemed very very small.

She reached across the table, gently touching his wrist.

"Maybe we should try…it might bring back some memories."

Her finger slipped underneath the rough fabric of his sleeve, gently caressing his wrist bone. He quickly jerked his arm away and grabbed the edge of the table tightly.

"Miss Granger. I do not think that would be appropriate."

He stood suddenly and took a step back from the table, the wood of his chair scraping loudly against the floorboards.

She stood as well.

"We can at least try."

He tried to move to the other room, but she moved as it to block his exit. Her face was set in a mask of intense determination and he couldn't help but feel a bit unsure of himself.

"It won't be what you want it to be," he insisted.

"How do you know what I want it to be?"

He took a step to the right and she mirrored his action, as if to corner him. The look in her eyes was that of a predator.

"I don't love you."

"I know that."

He hesitated. It was not the reaction that he had expected.

She looked amused.

"Severus Snape, you surprise me. Do you only sleep with women you're in love with?"

Her fingers slipped open the top few buttons of her blouse. He took a step backwards and turned his head slightly so that the swell of cleavage she had just uncovered was out of his view.

"No. But you are neither a whore nor a death eater. This is different."

She would have given up right then and there, would have accepted the fact that Severus Snape just wasn't attracted to her. But she _knew_ he was attracted to her…she had seen it in the Pensive. Surely that hadn't all been just because that other version of himself was in love with her, surely some part of that was physical, was a part of his body's natural reaction to her. She would use that against him. She had to know what it would make her feel...

But still, he was protesting.

"Listen to me. This situation is complicated enough already without….without any more complications. This won't bring back any memories…any feelings."

He was backed up against the wall now. She stepped closer as the last button of her shirt fell open, pressing her body against his, forcing him further against the rough wooden wall.

She stood on her toes so that she could whisper in his ear, letting her warm lips drag against the soft flesh as she spoke..

"Are you refusing me because you think you _won't_ feel anything or because you're afraid that you _will_?"

His eyes slipped shut as she reached down to caress him through the fabric of his now-tightened pants.

He couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips.

She slipped the fastening open easily and slid her hand inside, her hand closing around the smooth skin of his hard cock.

"Miss Granger….Hermione….you need to stop."

"No."

Despite his characteristic self-control, he was so close to giving in, so close to giving her what she wanted.

He forced his eyes open and looked into the face now staring intently at him. There was certainly lust in her expression, but there was something else too…a fearful desperation. She was doing this because she was desperate to get answers. He knew he couldn't give her what she wanted. This was all he needed to shove her away from him.

He grabbed her arm and flipped her around, moving away from the wall and shoving her against the table until she was bent over the wooden surface, his erect member digging into her back as he pressed her against the table.

"Is this what you want? For me to fuck you in this kitchen?" _That was certainly what he wanted at the moment_, "For me to fuck you over the table? For me to make you scream and then what? Then you feel nothing and realize that you just had sex with a man who you don't even really know, a teacher you hated, a Death Eater, an unattractive, cruel man. Then you feel like a slut. Is that what you want?"

He couldn't see her face, but her body was starting to shake.

He lowered his voice to a harsh, almost cruel whisper.

"_Do you think it will make me love you?_ Love is built up of memories of a person. If we don't have those memories then we don't have those feelings. Sex isn't going to be a magic jolt that snaps everything back into place. Sex isn't going to change _anything_. It's not going to bring anything back."

He pressed against her harder.

"Is that what you want?"

"No," she finally whispered.

He released her and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. He paced along the dark path, buttoning himself back up, trying to calm down, trying to ignore his aching erection. He had never known, never expected that Hermione Granger could be so….seductive. A frustrated groan escaped his throat. He leaned against a tree and desperately tried to push those images out of his mind, tried to forget the feel of fingers wrapped around him.

He wasn't how sure much time had passed since he had stormed out of the cabin. When he had finally calmed down, he started to feel guilty. He should not have threatened, should not have scared her like that. They were in this together and even if he didn't agree with the methods she wanted to use to find out the truth, he should not have snapped at her like that.

Entering the cottage, his first thought was that she had gone. He felt a twinge of panic as he looked into the empty kitchen. It was then that he noticed that the bedroom door had been shut. His fingers wrapped around the cool metal knob and he turned it softly, slowly edging the door open. Sure enough, she lay on top of the blankets, curled into a ball. Her eyes were red and puffy and he could tell that she had been crying.

He instantly felt guilty. He hadn't meant to do that to her. He had just wanted her to stop; he hadn't meant to make her cry.

He stood in the doorframe and watched her sleep. The pale moonlight fell against her closed eyelids. She was beautiful and he couldn't understand how, in a million years, in a millions different lifetimes, how she could have been his even for one second.

But the fact remained that she had been. As unbelievable as it seemed, Hermione Granger, the irritating know-it-all he had tormented as a student had been his lover, his wife, the mother of his child.

As he watched her sleep he promised himself that whatever happened, whatever it took, he would keep her safe. Maybe he would never love her and maybe she would never love him, but he would make sure that at the very least she was safe. He owed her that much.

He turned to leave, to find a spot on the dusty floor of the sitting room to spend the night, when a voice startled him.

"Wait."

He turned back around to find that she had opened her eyes.

"Don't go. Please don't go again."

She sat up on the bed and he crossed the room to sit beside her, the small rickety bed frame creaking under his weight as he eased himself onto the blankets.

"I'm sorry I did that," she whispered and even in the dark he could tell she was blushing. "I shouldn't have."

They both stared into the darkness, not daring to look at one another.

"I should not have yelled at you either."

"You were right. It wouldn't have helped anything. I just so desperately wanted to remember what it felt like…what it would feel like to love you." There was a sadness in her voice that killed him. He wanted to say something, to say anything to make that sadness go away.

There was a long silence between them.

After what felt like an hour, he broke it.

"There must have been something there...some compatibility in who we are for it ever to have worked in the first place. Just because we don't have those feelings, doesn't mean that there isn't the possibility that we might…someday again."

He got up to leave.

"Where are you going?"

"To sleep in the sitting room"

"On the floor?"

"Yes."

"We can enlarge the bed. There's no reason for you to sleep on the floor."

He stood there, hesitant.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "I promise I won't touch you."

She pulled out her wand and cast an enlargement spell, but there wasn't much room for the bed to grow in the small room. She moved all the way to the edge and he slipped in behind her, lying on top of the covers fully clothed while she slipped under the blankets.

She fell asleep quickly but he lay there on the still covers staring at the ceiling and waiting for a sleep that did not come. He hated this place, this cabin. He hated the terrible scenarios that it made him imagine. Before tonight, he had spent a total of maybe three hours here, only staying long enough to stock it with the necessary items.

This place gave him nightmares. He had dreamed of being here in this very bed...bleeding...suffering from a dark curse with no cure...hexed...drained of his magic...bitten by a werewolf...attacked by a vampire...hunted by the Ministry for his past...hunted by the Death Eaters for his betrayal...but always dying, and always alone. He turned his head to the side so that he could see the unruly brown curls that occupied the pillow beside him. He was not alone here, he reminded himself, and he was not dying. He moved closer to her on the small bed, overcome with the urge to touch her, to reassure himself that everything was all right and that he was not alone in the empty darkness that threatened to swallow him whole.

Without thinking about what he was doing or why he was doing it, slowly he reached out one arm and laid it across her side. She stirred in her sleep and nestled back against him.

With her securely in his arms as his anchor to this world, he let sleep take him, let her reassuring presence keep the nightmares at bay.

* * *

The next morning he awoke with empty arms.

His first thought, once again, was that she had left.

Entering the kitchen, he found her at the table with a cup of tea. A light blush from her and an embarrassed smile told him that she had indeed awoken in his arms and most likely thought it was her fault, that she had broken her promise to not touch him.

He took the chair across from her. Her face, her expression, was so different in the morning light. The shock and desperation that had caused her to throw herself at him the night before was gone. He watched her as she gazed out the window, her eyes unfocused. Thinking. Planning.

She turned her head and looked straight at him. This was not a time for small talk.

"We should find her. I want...I need to."

He shook his head.

"You know how these things work. This obviously isn't an amateur operation. They moved her the second I apparated."

She sighed, "I know."

"And we have no idea where to start looking for her next."

She was silent for a moment and resumed her occupation of staring out the window. A sparrow fluttered in the distance.

"What I don't understand is how it happened in the first place...why we would have a child."

"What do you mean?"

She turned to look at him again with the skeptical quirk of one eyebrow.

"You never struck me as the sort of man who would want children."

"I don't," he replied with conviction, "I wouldn't."

She bit her lip and looked thoughtful.

"Maybe _you_ just really wanted one," he accused.

She shook her head.

"Not in the middle of a war, not when I was one year out of Hogwarts, not when it would put someone I cared about in danger. I would wait."

"If neither of us wanted a child, then maybe it was an accident."

She shook her head and looked at him sharply, "I'm capable of brewing contraceptive potion."

"You are," he said thoughtfully, "but I'm sure I would have insisted on brewing it for you."

"And you're one of the most highly skilled potions masters in the world. That's even more reason that it couldn't have been an accident."

They could venture all the guesses they wanted, but in the end they were all just stabs in the dark.

She was quiet again.

"We need more answers," she said finally.

He sighed.

"There's only one man who can give them to us."

She was looking at him deeply, waiting for what? For his approval? They were in this together now. She knew that this was a decision that involved both of them.

"We should go to him."

She stood from the table and straightened her robes that were now wrinkled from being slept-in.

They walked out into the garden.

"Are we going to Hogwarts?"

"No. We don't need to find him. He's the one looking for us. All we need to do is go somewhere he would look."

He gave her a small smile and she felt her stomach flutter as he grabbed her arm and apparated.

The scene was the same as he remembered it. The same idyllic country landscape, the same farmhouse. Only this time it was empty of any signs of human inhabitation. Severus walked through the empty rooms while Hermione trailed behind him. The walls were bare, the wood of the floorboards had been cleared of everything, of every sign that this house had ever been inhabited.

If he didn't know better, he would have suspected that it had all been a dream.

Hermione stood in the middle of a room...had it been a bedroom? It was impossible to tell. It was empty. Everything was empty.

There was a creak of the front door swinging open.

Hermione stepped out into the hallway, but Severus was faster. He already had the old man pressed up against the closed door, a wand to his throat.

"Severus," he warned, his blue eyes flashing.

There was no masking the betrayal, the cold fury in the younger man's accusation.

"You obliviated me."

But the old man did not blink.

"You begged me to."

Reaching into his robes, Severus pulled out the photograph. The corners had started to get bent and wrinkled. He thrust it in the Dumbledore's face, so close it touched the man's nose.

"I was happy."

"Yes. You were…" Dumbledore said slowly, "Until you ruined it. Until it all fell apart."

Severus took a step back in shock, lowering his wand and letting the photograph fall to the floor. Dumbledore straightened himself, pulling away from the door and looking at the other man with disgust.

"You think this is _my_ fault? How typical of you to blame me, to see a grand conspiracy in your own failure."

Severus opened his mouth but couldn't find the words. He dared a glance at the young woman standing in the corridor behind him.

"Did you really think, Severus, that you could make her happy? You know yourself better than anyone. Did you really think that you could have a loving, trusting relationship without doing _something_ to drive her away?"

"You're lying. I would never want to..."

"Never want to what? Forget a wife who hated you, a child whose life you could be no part of?"

* * *

_A/N: Aha, so maybe not quite as simple as we thought it was..._

_Maybe this should have been two chapters, but I wanted to give it to you all at once.  
_

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. If you haven't yet, please do. If you have already, I'd like to know your thoughts on the progress of the story._


	6. Into the Pensive

6: Into the Pensive (Part I)

x

x

"Did you really think, Severus, that you could make her happy? You know yourself better than anyone. Did you really think that you could have a loving, trusting relationship without doing _something_ to drive her away?"

"You're lying. I would never want to..."

"Never want to what? Forget a wife who hated you, a child whose life you could be no part of?"

Severus looked away as the old man continued to speak.

"You know what you've been through, how dysfunctional your own parents were, how miserable you were at Hogwarts. Did you think that you could miraculously come through all that unscathed? Did you think you would be capable of being the trusting husband she needs? Did you think you would be a good father?"

Severus stood silently as the man vocalized his deepest fears.

"Did you think you could live happily ever after? Did you think you would let yourself?"

The old man's voice was lower now, a harsh whisper.

"You know what I'm saying is true. You remember Lily, don't you? You know yourself well enough to know that whenever something good happens to you, you find some way to ruin it."

He kept silent. Who was he to dispute the truth?

"Whatever happened is in the past, my boy. It is better not to know."

"No."

"Severus, I think that..."

"I want to know what happened. I _need_ to." He was aware of how pathetic he sounded, but he didn't care. This man always saw him at his worst, at his most vulnerable. This was nothing new.

He hadn't realized that she had come to his side until she slipped her hand into his.

"I want to know too."

Dumbledore turned his head slightly, focusing his attention on Hermione.

"It was a mistake then and it would be a mistake now. You don't know him, Hermione. You never did. You see your idealized version of him, your noble, misunderstood hero. That's who you want him to be and who you fool yourself into believing he is. You always forget that he's a Slytherin, that he doesn't always take the high road, that he'll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. And that sometimes what _he_ wants isn't the same thing as what _you_ want. Do you think you can control him? You can't. He's not Harry or Ron. He won't follow you blindly. He'll betray you in an instant if it's in his best interest."

"He wouldn't."

"He already has."

She stood there, silent, speechless, not sure whether to believe the words she was hearing, unable to decide whether to drop the hand she held or grip it tighter.

Dumbledore sighed and pulled a handful of vials out of his robes.

"If you have to know..."

"We do."

He levitated the vials of silvery liquid to Severus who snatched them from the air and tucked them into the pockets of his robes.

"You know where to find me when you're done."

Dumbledore turned to leave, but hesitated and looked over his shoulder at the couple.

The look on his face sent shivers down Severus' spine. The old man looked so…guilty, so ashamed, so utterly defeated.

"I'm not proud of all I've done. In the past, I wasn't completely honest with either of you. But I hope you will be able to see that I did it for your own good. I hope that you will be able to understand."

Hermione tried to reach for her wand, taken with the irresistible urge to hex the old man, but Severus held her hand tightly.

As soon as he was gone, they apparated back to the cabin. Severus went straight for the Pensive, emptying the vials into it as Hermione sat across from him, drumming her fingers nervously on the table. As anxious as they were to see these memories, as much as they needed to know what they contained, they each felt a certain amount of dread at the thought of what they would find.

"How do we know these are real?"

"They're real," he said softly, unrolling a piece of parchment in his own handwriting.

"Whose are they?"

"Some are Dumbledore's…some are mine….and some are yours."

He reached across the table, and grabbed her hand tightly before they both submerged their faces in the liquid and let themselves be transported to another time.

The first memory immediately confirmed their fears.

_She wears her uniform._

_At least the Head Girl pin on her robes means that it is her last year in school, but that is hardly a consolation._

_She assists him in his laboratory at Hogwarts. __She crushes lacefly wings in silence behind him. No words are spoken, but tension is apparent in both their body language. His jaw is firmly set. Her hands grip the knife tightly and chop with more force than is necessary. She shoots him angry glares when he isn't looking.  
_

_He walks up behind her and glances over her shoulder at her work._

_"You crushed them too small. These are unusable."_

_She spins to face him.  
_

_"Well, if you would tell me what we are brewing, I could know what size you need them to be."_

_"What I am brewing. You are brewing nothing. You are merely assisting me on the Headmaster's orders. You are merely getting in my way."_

_"Well, if I'm just a nuisance, why don't you just tell him that it isn't working out?" She's angry. This is obviously the product of weeks of pent-up frustration. She would never speak to a teacher like this._

_"I refuse to be treated like this, just because you want someone to yell at because you don't have any control over your own pathetic life."  
_

_"You impertinent little..."  
_

_He grabs her wrist. They are close…very close…closer than is appropriate for a teacher and student. Their eyes are locked and it is obvious that this is the moment, the moment where everything changes._

_She doesn't fight his grip on her, just stares at him. It is impossible to know what this moment means to either of them. These are just memories and there is no record of the thoughts that accompany them. But it is obvious by the way that he suddenly releases her, by the way that she backs away slowly, still looking at him with that strange look on her face, that something significant has happened.  
_

_x_

_x  
_

_It is impossible to tell how much time has passed since the first memory, but in the second they are once again working in the lab. This time there is not silence but light conversation. Oddly enough, although the discussions flows smoothly, they do not look at one another. Their tone, their conversation seems amiable enough, but still there is no eye contact. Finally, she looks up in the same moment he does, meeting his eye. They both freeze, gazes locked on one another. The moment seems like it will last forever, but finally they break it and resume their work as if nothing happened._

_She gathers her things as he sits at his desk and starts to grade essays. The scratching of his quill against the parchment is the only sound._

_She makes her way towards the door, but stops as she reaches it and turns back around._

_"Professor…"_

_His head swings up sharply._

_"Don't say it." He begs in a low, broken voice. "I am your teacher and you are my student and whatever you have to say, just please don't say it."_

_Her mouth stays open, but no sound comes out. Her eyes, her eyes say everything he has asked her not to say._

_"Please don't say it," he repeats again._

_She slips silently from the room._

_x_

_x  
_

_The next memory is a party, the post-graduation party at Grimmauld Place to be more specific. The living room is decorated cheerfully and all the usual characters are there. Hermione walks through the crowd, a half-finished glass of wine in her hand. She wears a black knee-length dress and effort has obviously been put into getting her hair to behave. She seems slightly off-balance but it is impossible to tell whether it is from the wine or from the strappy heels she wears. Charlie Weasley steps into her path and gives her a hug._

_"Congratulations, Hermione. Top of your class, not that anyone's surprised of course."_

_"Thanks, Charlie."_

_"The whole Order's here tonight."_

_"Even Snape?" she asks casually, trying hard not to appear too interested._

_"Yeah, even Snape," Charlie laughs. "Well, not in here with all the people. Last I saw he was sitting on the back porch by himself with a bottle of firewhisky."_

_She gives an amused smile which is so obviously forced. Charlie Weasley doesn't seem to notice._

_"Hey, do you want to dance?"_

_She gulps down the rest of her wine._

_"Not right now, Charlie. I was on my way to get another glass of wine."_

_"Right, maybe later then."_

_She stands in the kitchen for a few moments by herself and then pours another glass of wine. Taking a deep breath, she opens the back door and steps outside into the night._

_He sits on the back steps, lit by the moonlight on one side and the soft glow that escapes the window on the other. He doesn't turn around as she shuts the door quietly behind her._

_"I graduated," she says softly into the night._

_She is answered by a soft snort and sarcastic words. "I know. I was standing next to the headmaster when he handed you your diploma."_

_She ignores his mocking tone and tries again.  
_

_"I am no longer your student."_

_"I am aware of that."_

_He brings the bottle to his lips and drinks deeply, still not looking at her as she sits beside him on the step.  
_

_"Can I say it now?" she whispers.  
_

_"No."_

_"But..."  
_

_"You are not my student, but there are…other reasons, so many other reasons not to say it."_

_She hesitates for a moment, studying the side of his face.  
_

_"Fine. I won't say a word. I won't say anything."_

_He seems relieved and lifts the bottle to his lips for another sip, but she is faster than he is. She leans over, meeting his lips before the bottle does. He seems too shocked to react as she kisses him slowly and sensually, running her tongue across his bottom lip. Then suddenly she pulls away, stands and goes back inside as he sits frozen with the bottle still halfway to his mouth._

_A moment later he stands and follows, catching sight of her through the crowd and following her, ten paces behind as she weaves her way from room to room through groups of drunken Order members. She ascends the stairs and he follows. She continues down the dark hallway and then into her bedroom, leaving the door open behind her. He follows her inside and closes it. She hasn't turned from where she first entered and is standing in the dark with her back to him, staring out the window. _

_Why has he followed her up here? He looks down at the bottle of alcohol still in his hand. She stands silently. He is the one that followed her here, the one that felt the need to explain himself. It is he who must speak first.  
_

_"There are so many things you don't understand."_

_"I understand them," she says softly, turning to face him, "I just don't care."_

_"This would put you in danger."_

_"I'm already in danger."_

_"More danger."_

_"I know. I know and I choose this."_

_The sounds from the party drift up from below. They seem to heighten the awareness that they are in a bedroom alone together while the entire Order is downstairs.  
_

_"Do you know what this would do to the Order? What it would do to Potter?"_

_"No one needs to know. We could keep it a secret." As if he needs another secret. As if he doesn't already have too many._

_"I'm good with secrets," she tells him and he doesn't dispute her claim._

_He stands silently for a long moment, trying to come to terms with his decision.  
_

_"Say it," his voice echoes suddenly in the sparsely-furnished room and she obeys without hesitation. The words that she has been holding in for months spill from her lips. She tells him that she cares for him, that she wants him. She tells him every dirty thought she has ever had about him. Because although she will keep this a secret from the world, she will keep nothing from him.  
_

_x_

_x_

_Dumbledore is striding through the halls of Grimmauld Place, his arms filled with scrolls of various sizes. The rustle of the scrolls drown out the soft moan from the end of the hallway. He reaches the door of the laboratory and pushes it open. The sight he finds on the other side is enough to stop him in his tracks. The Potion Master's back is to the door and he blocks most of his companion from view. She is perched on the counter, legs spread as she faces him, and only partially visible from where Dumbledore stands, but it is obvious from his body language that he understands immediately what is happening here. The door slams shut behind him and both figures freeze._

_The only sound in the room is Hermione's rough breathing which she is struggling to control._

_Nobody moves.  
_

_One of Severus' hands is on her breast, the other disappears under her skirt. He removes it with a wet pop and she buries her face against him, unwilling to look at the headmaster standing behind him.  
_

_Dumbledore drops the scrolls he carries onto the nearest work surface, not caring that some roll off onto the floor.  
_

_The only word to describe the look on his face is furious._

_"A word, Severus, if you're not too busy." His voice is low and threatening.  
_

_Hermione gathers whatever dignity she still has left and lifts herself down from the countertop, obviously relieved that she has not been asked to stay.  
_

_Both men stand facing each other from across the room as she smooths down her skirt and quickly slips out the door. As soon as the door closes behind her, Dumbledore issues his solemn order.  
_

_"End it. Now."_

_But his spy, who has always catered to his every whim, who has always obeyed his every request, looks at him evenly.  
_

_"No."_

_"Whatever it is, Severus. It cannot continue."_

_"I need her."_

_"Severus, if you have needs," he sneers at the word, "there are places in nocturne alley where…"_

_"I need __her."_

_Dumbledore pauses a moment, studying the younger man carefully.  
_

_"Then it is worse than I thought."_

_Severus tightens his jaw but does not reply._

_"For Merlin's sake, Severus, she graduated four months ago. How long....no, I don't want to know. This has to end here."_

_"I can't. I need her."  
_

_"Regardless of __your needs, the Order needs both of you. Whatever this is between the two of you can only lead to disaster."_

_"There is no need to worry," Severus says firmly, although it is obvious that he does not quite believe it himself._

_x_

_x_

_The next memory begins.  
_

_x_

_x_

A/N: The chapter of pensive memories got really long, so I am splitting it into two chapters and you will have to wait a little longer to find out the rest of what happened. Sorry it took so long for the update. I am applying to grad school and am trying not to spend any more time writing until I finish my applications. Also, if any of you are following my other stories, I most likely won't update anything until Christmas. Thanks for sticking with me. I'm going to try to be good now and write my application essays instead of fanfiction, but it would be nice to have some reviews to read as I take breaks (hint, hint)._  
_


	7. Into the Pensive contined

_This memory can't take place more than a few months from the last one, but seen together like this, the changes in Hermione seem monumental._

_Whatever has happened to her, to this war, in the intervening months has stripped her of her last vestiges of adolescence. There is the sad maturity of a woman about her, of one who has already seen too much. This woman is not the embarrassed girl from the previous memory. This woman would not leave the room._

_Even Dumbledore seems to know not to speak to her as if she is still a girl._

_She sits in his office, a cup of tea in her hand, but looks at the man with a guarded expression._

_"You know what I have asked you here to discuss?" he asks her, although even asking seems to be a formality. There is no need to pretend; she sees through all of his pretenses._

_"I do," she replies coldly._

_"Then there is no need for small talk. You and Severus must stop seeing each other." His attempts to get his spy to end the relationship have obviously failed; he is now trying a different path._

_"I'm afraid that's impossible," she tells him, slowly sipping her tea before returning the cup to the saucer with a soft clink. She raises her head and stares the powerful wizard in the eye, unafraid._

_"You have to understand what this is risking for the Order."_

_"I do. Our relationship will not compromise the Order. Severus and I had an understanding, before this even started. Harry comes first. Harry has to come first. Before our loyalty to each other, before our relationship, is our duty to Harry and to the Order. Severus has promised me that if I were to be captured, he would let them kill me before he would do anything to sacrifice the Order."_

_She seems as though she sincerely believes this, but the old man looks skeptical._

_"And you? Can you guarantee that your feelings towards Severus won't interfere with your duty to the Order?"_

_She looks offended at the question._

_"I gave up everything for this war. I erased my parents' memories, I gave up my childhood. I've put my future on hold. I risk my life every single day. I'm not just going to give that all up for a man." She pauses and takes a breath, "but neither am I going to turn my back on love, on a man that might not still be there by the time this war ends. These are dark times, Sir, and I'm going to find comfort wherever I can get it and that isn't anyone's business but mine and his."_

_"Regardless of whose business it is, your actions affect more than just you."_

_"I swore an oath to the Order. That isn't something I take lightly."_

_The old man stands up and walks to the window, turning his back to her as he stares out the dusty glass, gathering his thoughts._

_"He told me about Lily," she says in a low voice and he turns back towards her._

_"What?"_

_She stands from her armchair and approaches him.  
_

_"He told me about Lily. And I can see how you might be threatened by our relationship. I can see why another woman coming into his life might concern you. Are you worried that he's over her, that you'll no longer be able to control him with his guilt?"_

_Dumbledore opens his mouth and then closes it again, caught off guard. He seems shocked not only by how much Severus has told her, but by how much she has put together herself._

_"Are you worried you no longer hold his reigns?"_

_His gaze flickers over her silently as if remeasuring his opponent. He has clearly underestimated her.  
_

_"Don't worry," she says in a voice brimming with resentment, "I'm not trying to steal him from you. He's yours for as long as this infernal war lasts. He'll do anything you ask him to do just as he always has. But the second that the green light of the Avada Kedavara hits the Dark Lord, we're both walking away from this…walking away from you."_

_She is staking her claim on the man, letting the Headmaster know politely but firmly that that while he still commands his spy, the man's heart belongs to her and that she is willing to do that is necessary to protect her claim._

_"And you trust him?"_

_"Absolutely."_

_"Miss Granger, he was your teacher less than a year ago. You can't think he sees you as an equal in this relationship."  
_

_"He does see me an an equal. He trusts and respects me. We have an understanding. He promised me that we will make decisions about things together, that he will never tell me what to do."_

_"Never trust a promise from a Slytherin."_

_"Thank you for the tea, Sir, and the advice, but I have other matters that require my attention."_

_"Of course," he says politely although his eyes remain flat. He watches her leave his office before returning to the window and staring out across the grounds, as if waiting for something to come.  
_

x

x_  
_

_The next memory is difficult to make sense of at first. It is only after a few minutes of viewing that one's eyes become accustomed to the darkness in which this memory is encased. She waits in the dark at a small wooden table by the window. No lights are lit. It is impossible to tell how long she has been waiting before Severus enters. Only his sharp eyesight allows him to make out the silhouette of her against the moonlight._

_She doesn't speak until he has removed his death eater robes and seated himself in the chair on the other side of the small table. When she does, her voice is soft but demanding.  
_

_"Marry me."_

_"No," he replies without hesitation.  
_

_"In this world where everything is changing too quickly, I want one thing I can be sure of."_

_"Nothing stays constant, Hermione."_

_"This will," she says with conviction, as if she can force it to, as if she can bend the entire world with her determination._

_He cannot refuse her.  
_

_"If you need this, then I will."_

_She seems satisfied by this answer._

_x_

_x_

_In the next memory, they lay in his bed. By the ring she wears, they have obviously just been wed. He holds her close to him, wrapped in the tangled sheets, gently teasing her.  
_

_"Next thing I know you'll be wanting children."_

_She shakes her head and laughs, a little more than he expects her to.  
_

_"Don't you want children?" he asks more seriously this time._

_She turns to face him.  
_

_"Yes…someday. Not for a long time. I'm nineteen, children are so far in the future I can't even imagine them yet. And certainly not during a time of war. It would be selfish, foolish, insane. I couldn't purposefully bring a child into this war-torn world."_

_"And you?" she asks tentatively, as if she isn't sure she wants to hear the answer...as if she suddenly realizes that this is something she should have asked the man before she talked him into marrying her.  
_

_"I do not wish to be a father."_

_They are silent for a few moments before she speaks again.  
_

_"Is Harry…do you know if Harry was a mistake?"_

_"A mistake?"_

_"I've just always wondered. I mean, Lily Potter was only a few years out of Hogwarts when Harry was born. She had lots of time, why would a highly-skilled witch, a trained auror, want to have a child so young, in the middle of a war that was only getting worse? Especially when she was fighting on one side of that war, when her husband was too. It seems reckless, stupid."_

_"I've often wondered the same thing."_

_x_

_x  
_

_Severus stands in the Headmaster's office and slams his fist down on the desk. The old man stares at him calmly from his chair behind the desk as if unaware of this tantrum.  
_

_"Dammit Albus, Greyback is specifically targeting her. Do you know what he will do to her? She should be in hiding."_

_"I know exactly what he will do to her and I agree with you."_

_"But?"_

_"The decision is up to her."_

_"Order her to do it."_

_"No."_

_"Maybe you should speak with her. You are her husband after all."_

_"I have," he says, running his hand through his hair, "She won't listen."_

_"Then there is nothing I can do."_

_"You mean there is nothing that you will do."_

_"Severus, if we locked away everyone who was in danger, we wouldn't have much of an Order left. Harry has been fighting on the front lines for years now even though the most powerful wizard in the world wants him dead. I cannot lock her away against her will just because you love her."_

_The younger man moves to leave.  
_

_"You told me that your relationship, this marriage would not affect your judgement. You told me it would have no impact on the Order."_

_Severus does not turn back around, nor does he defend himself, but as his hand closes around the doorknob, he says in a low voice,"This isn't over. I will find a way to keep her safe"  
_

_x_

_x_

_She slams open the door of her bedroom with a violence that shakes the frame. He sits in a chair by the window.  
_

_"I'm pregnant," she announces accusingly.  
_

_"Is that so?"_

_"You could at least __pretend to be surprised, you bastard." Her voice is dripping with anger and he does not reply.  
_

_"You brewed my contraceptive potion wrong on purpose."_

_He casually examines his fingernails._

_"I may have made one or two small errors. Even the best potions master makes mistakes occasionally."_

_Tears are shining in her eyes.  
_

_"You betrayed me, Severus. I gave up __everything to fight in this war and you have removed me from it. I gave up my childhood for it. My parents have no memory of my existence because of my involvement and you have made it all for nothing."_

_He stares down, not able look at her during her rage._

_Her voice falls to a desperate whisper. "I thought we were in this together. I thought we were partners. I thought you respected me."_

_"I do."_

_"You wouldn't have done this to me against my will if you did. You would not have taken the control of my life away from me."_

_"This is your decision, Hermione. There are options…"_

_"You wouldn't have tried this if you didn't know me well enough to know I wouldn't take any of those options. I'm having this child, Severus. A child that is being brought into the world for your own selfish purposes, but still a child."_

_She takes off her ring and sets it down on her dresser._

_"How could you do this, Severus?"_

_x_

_x_

_In what must be a memory from later that same day, they sit in the Headmaster's office once again. Hermione looks at Dumbledore. __Severus sits with his head down, not willing to look either of them in the eye._

_The headmaster speaks in a quiet voice.  
_

_"I take it that I do not have to tell you how disappointed I am in you."_

_"You do not."_

_"And what will happen now? Hermione obviously cannot stay at Grimmauld Place. Please fill us in on the details of your brilliant plan. Are you planning to leave the Order to go raise your child with her?"  
_

_"I have no interest in being a father."_

_"So you leave me with a child to raise on my own?"_

_"You can always give it away," he says coldly._

_She bites her lip to stop the tear that threatens to fall and turns her attention back to the Headmaster.  
_

_"Is there somewhere I can go while I'm pregnant that I won't just be sitting around uselessly…is there something that I can do that will be of service to the Order?"_

_Dumbledore considers her for a moment.  
_

_"There is a library we have in Belgium that would be a secure and secret location for you to give birth. Mr. Krum is currently conducting research there. You could assist him with his work."_

_"No," Severus' sharp tone cuts through the conversation._

_Hermione ignores him._

_"That sounds like a splendid idea."_

_"Absolutely not," he tries again._

_She licks her lips as she turns her head to look at him with a seductive vindictiveness._

_"Viktor and I are old friends."_

_x_

_x  
_

_He stands helplessly as she throws things into her old Hogwarts trunk._

_"Hermione, you cannot do this."_

_"You gave up any right to tell me what I can and cannot do when you made my decisions for me, when you decided to bring a child into this world not out of love but for your own selfish purposes."_

_"You are pregnant with my child, you can not live with Viktor Krum."_

_"I can and I will." Her intention is clear. He has broken her heart and now she will break his._

_She shrinks the the trunk and shoves in in her pocket. Before she exits the door, she turns to look at him for one last time.  
_

_"It's over, Severus. I will not forgive you for this. If I do come back to fight after the child is born, it will not be not as your wife."_

_She leaves him alone in the room and he sinks into a chair, realizing what his desperate move has cost him.  
_

_x_

_x_

_A staff meeting ends and the faculty begin filing out of the Headmaster's office when Dumbledore calls out, "Severus, stay for a moment."  
_

_Professor Vector closes the door behind her as he reluctantly approaches the Headmaster's desk.  
_

_"What was it you wanted?"  
_

_"Hermione has given birth."_

_"Oh," his face remains passive.  
_

_"They will stay in hiding."_

_"Why are you telling me this?"  
_

_"You are facing the Dark Lord every day. The stakes are higher now that there is a child. The only way to keep your wife and child safe is to know nothing of your connection to them."_

_Severus sinks down into the leather armchair.  
_

_"You want to erase my memories."_

_"Yes."_

_He stares at the Headmaster in silence for a few long moments.  
_

_"She will still know?"_

_"Yes. Hermione will stay in hiding with the child."_

_Severus closes his eyes as the Headmaster continues to speak.  
_

_"Your memories of her only put them in danger and cause you pain."_

_He opens his eyes and stands, naming his conditions._

_"I want to see my child first."_

_x_

_x_

_Severus and Dumbledore stand in a corridor, a closed wooden door beside them. Severus stares intently at the doorknob as his master speaks.  
_

_"Your daughter is in there, Severus. Come back to Hogwarts when you are finished and we will attend to the business at hand."_

_"You mean erasing my memory of my wife and child," he says bitterly._

_"I mean keeping them safe."_

_Dumbledore strides off down the empty hallways. Once the sounds of his footsteps have fallen off, Severus pushes the door open. The room has a large window which bathes the room in a soft northern light. The room is sparsely furnished, but touches of color and warmth have been added to soften the austerity. He approaches the antique white crib which sits in front of the window and gazes down at his infant daughter for the first time._

_"Hello," he whispers, and then glances around as if to see if anyone is watching him; they are not. He reaches down into the white blankets and lifts his daughter into his arms. _

_"Catherine," he reads from the embroidery on the tiny blanket._

_"Catherine, I am...I am your father," he tells her hesitantly.  
_

_The scene is a study in contrasts as the black figure gently holds the tiny bundle of white. He remains still for a long time, simply staring at his daughter as he holds her tenderly in his arms as if he is afraid he will break her._

_When he speaks again, all the uncertainty is gone from his voice. He speaks as a man with a purpose, a man who has found his singular driving force that will guide his life.  
_

_"I will work to end this. I will do everything I can to make a world that is safe for you."_

_He sets the child down and leaves the room. The first corridor empties into a larger hall at the foot of a large stone staircase. Viktor Krum stands on the staircase, blocking his way.  
_

_"Where is Hermione?"_

_"She doesn't want to see you, Snape."_

_He draws his wand.  
_

_"Where is my wife?"_

_"She no longer wears her ring, Snape. As I see it, you have no right to call her that."_

_"What is she to you?" he snarls, pushing ahead._

_"That is no longer any of your business, Snape," the younger man retorts seriously.  
_

_"Let me pass before I hex you to pieces. Are you trying to keep her for yourself, Krum?"_

_"I'm just trying to keep you from her. You don't know what you did to her, how much you hurt her. She cried for weeks when she first arrived. You broke her heart. Do you really think that seeing you now is going to do her any good?"_

_"But.."_

_"If she wanted to see you, she would have asked for you."_

_This statement seems to hit its mark as Snape withdraws his challenge. He turns and exits the hall, making his way towards the front doors. As he approaches the entryway, a couple come in from the cold, stray flakes of snow blowing in behind them. The woman removes her hood and shakes loose her fair hair as the man brushes snow from his cloak.  
_

_"Who are you?" Severus asks, suspicious of any strangers who will be in the same building as his daughter. His hand reaches into his robes for his wand.  
_

_"My name is William Prewett and this is my wife Rachel."_

_"Relatives of Molly Weasley?" Severus seems to relax a little._

_"She is my cousin," the man replies._

_"What is your business here?"_

_ We are the family…that Hermione has chosen to protect Catherine."_

_"You are members of the Order?"_

_"We are...friends of the Order. It's less traceable."_

_Severus nods.  
_

_"You must be the father," the woman asserts, smiling slightly.  
_

_"Would you like to see where your daughter will grow up?"_

_x_

_x_

_They apparate to the same farmhouse that Severus later stumbles upon. Although it was snowy in Bulgaria, it seems to be perpetually bright and sunny here. They introduce him to their children and show him around the property. William walks him back to the apparition point where they arrived._

_They say their goodbyes, but Snape does not yet apparate. Instead, he reaches into his robes and withdraws a photograph. Handing it to William, he pleads softly, "This war will end. I want to be with her again some day. Please, make sure my daughter knows me."_

_He takes out his wand to apparate, but then hesitates yet again and withdraws a piece of parchment on which something has been written. He slips this into the man's open hand.  
_

_"If anything happens to her…to either of them…come directly to me."_

_And then he is gone._

_x_

_x_

_He enters Dumbledore's office, shoulders slumped. After half his life spent in a near-constant state of warfare, this last year is what has broken him. He seems both shattered and determined. What was probably meant to sound like a command comes out as a plea.  
_

_"Obliviate me."_

_x_

_x  
_

_The next memory begins mid-motion. She is running through the hallway of St. Mungo's as Viktor trails behind her. She sweeps into a ward heavily guarded by Order members who recognize her and let her pass. She doesn't slow her pace until she has already burst through the door of the private room. Viktor enters the room behind her and slowly closes the door as she walks towards the figure who lies motionless in the hospital bed._

_She touches the figure's hand gently and breathes a single whispered word. "Harry."_

_She speaks to him although it is obvious that he cannot hear her._

_"I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have been there for you." The guilt is evident on her face._

_The room is dark, lit only by the soft glow of a small lamp on the nightstand._

_They are not alone in the room. Another figure is seated in a chair on the opposite side of the bed; the concern is evident in his clear blue eyes._

_"Headmaster," she greets him, too tired or distressed to shake off the habits of childhood._

_"This would not have happened if…"_

_"No, it would not have."_

_"Was anyone else…" she trails off, unable to vocalize her thoughts._

_"An auror was killed and Severus was forced to put himself in danger to get Harry out alive. He is recovering at Hogwarts."_

_She sinks into the chair at Harry's side._

_"Hermione," the old man says softly. "The Order needs you."_

_Her eyes have still not left the form of her unconscious friend.  
_

_"The Order has been a mess without you. Harry has been a danger to himself and to the whole operation."_

_She finally looks at the old man, as if just realizing why he has asked her here.  
_

_"We need you."_

_"Catherine needs me too."_

_"It's one or the other. You can't have both."_

_Her face is buried in her hands as tears fall from her eyes._

_"What are you saying?"_

_"I'm saying that if you choose to return to the fight, I will first need to erase all your memories of Severus and your daughter. Your Occulmency skills are adequate, but not perfect. If you were captured, your knowledge could put both of them in danger."_

_"But.."  
_

_"The Order needs him and I won't allow you to risk him like that."_

_"Please don't force me to choose," she whispers._

_Viktor steps forward and speaks for the first time since they have entered the room. He stands by her side and gently touches her arm. It is impossible to tell if his protectiveness of her is that of a lover or merely that of a loyal friend.  
_

_"There is no choice, Hermione. Let's go home."_

_For a second it looks as if she will comply, but Dumbledore speaks once again.  
_

_"She will be safer without you."_

_Hermione stands slowly.  
_

_"When you joined the Order, you swore an oath that you would put your duties above all else."_

_"That was before I had a child. Things are different now."_

_"Unfortunately Harry is not. He still needs you as much now as he did at eleven years old...maybe even more. You swore your loyalty and duty to him before your daughter was ever born. You cannot turn your back on that now. Harry needs you."_

_"This is ridiculous," Viktor interrupts, "Don't listen to him."  
_

_"It would help Severus too."_

_Her eyes light up, but Viktor grabs her arm._

_"You do not owe that man anything."  
_

_"The discovery of your relationship, of this child would be a death sentence for Severus. You are not strong at occulmancy. If you wish to return to the fight, you must have no memory of her, of your relationship with him. It is the only way to keep all three of you safe."_

_She closes her eyes for a moment before opening them with calm resolve.  
_

_"I'll do it. I will return to the war."_

_"Hermione, You have a daughter," Viktor calls out in one last attempt to get her to see reason. She turns to him slowly.  
_

_"I have a family. This is the only way for it to ever be whole again."_

_She turns back around and takes a step closer to Dumbledore.  
_

_"Severus will still know?"_

_"Yes." _

_It is a lie. He has already obliviated the man, yet he stares into her eyes and tells her what he wants her to believe.  
_

_She nods her head, not even able to say the words._

_"And when the war is over, your memories will be returned to you. You will be with your daughter again one day."_

_In a blur, the old man leaves the hospital with them, arriving at the farmhouse where she has been living. She stands with her daughter who is much too young to understand what is happening, much too young to understand the significance of this moment as large tears roll down her mother's cheeks.  
_

_"Goodbye," she tells her daughter, handing the girl to Rachel reluctantly. And with one last longing look back, she apparates._

_x_

_x_

They withdrew from the memories into darkness. Severus lit a few candles, but neither spoke. What was there to say after all they had seen? They sat, processing both what they had done and what had been done to them.

"I'm sorry," he said finally.

She didn't reply. What was there to say?

"Although I'm not sure I have any right to apologize for something I have no memory of doing…but I suppose I am the same man."

Finally her anger and frustration erupted. She was angry at him, angry at herself, angry at Dumbledore and angry at the world for putting them in that situation in the first place. Unfortunately for the man before her, he was the easiest one for her to take it out on.

"I cannot believe you would do that."

Unfortunately, as much as he didn't want to, he could believe it of himself. He had seen nothing that had shocked him.

She was angry, so angry with him at his betrayal. She had trusted him. She wanted to scream at him, but how could she be angry at him for something of which he had no memory of doing?

He had gotten her pregnant against her will. At the time, her reaction had been pure anger. But now…now that she could never have children again, there was a seed of gratefulness mixed in with the anger. His betrayal of her was the only reason she would ever have a child of her own. How could she hate him for that?

How could she hate a man who had given her the only thing she had really wanted for the past year? The one thing she had thought she would never be able to have. Her mind churned with conflicting emotions.

He spoke again, startling her out of her thoughts. This time his tone was hesitant, as if asking a question that he wasn't sure he wanted answered.

"In the memory…when you said that you were old friends with Krum, I seemed to react as if that meant something."

"I lost my virginity to him," she stated plainly.

"Oh. I had assumed…I supposed it was wrong of me to assume."

"You had assumed I came to you as a virgin."

"Yes."

And to make things even more confusing, she had been shocked at her own behavior that she had seen in the Pensive. Would she really sleep with Viktor while she was pregnant with another man's child as she had implied she would do? She had always thought of herself as faithful and loyal, had never thought for a second that she would be capable of such behavior. But on the other hand, she had seen how furious she was. It was true that she and Viktor had remained friends, that she had even been attracted to him. Would she really sleep with him to get revenge on Severus? If she had no memory of it, did it even matter?

She looked up to see Severus opening the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Bulgaria."

It was obvious that what he had seen had bothered him deeply.

"I need to know what happened there."

She lowered her eyes, wishing she could reassure him that nothing had happened, but not being sure for herself that that would be the truth.

"I'm coming with you," she told him, standing from the table.

"But we can't just show up there in the middle of the night. Let's wait until morning at least."

He didn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he was assaulted by an image of the young Bulgarian man thrusting his cock in his pregnant wife. It made him sick.

x

x

* * *

_A/N: Happy Holidays everyone. It's a super long chapter, but I didn't want to split it. Grad school applications are all done! Now I just have to wait a few months for the rejections to start coming. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait. Does this all make sense? I was trying to cram a lot in here. Please leave a review if you are enjoying this story, your feedback means a lot to me._


	8. Question and Answer

Hermione awoke the next morning find Severus already up. When she walked into the kitchen, she was met with a cold look. He was obviously still concerned about the possibility that she had slept with Viktor to get revenge on him for getting her pregnant against her will to keep her from fighting the war. That neither or them remembered seemed to do nothing to ease the tensions.

Hermione wanted to tell him that she would never be unfaithful, but she knew herself better than to lie like that. She was well aware that despite her gentle nature, she had an unfortunate vindictive streak. Ask Marietta Edgecombe, ask Rita Skeeter, ask Ronald Weasley. As much as she would have argued for forgiveness any day, her instinct was always for revenge.

Severus turned without a word and exited the small cabin. He strode quickly through the garden and she struggled to keep up with him. Did he have any right to still be mad at her? Did either or their actions even matter if both of them had been obliviated? Somehow they still did.

They apparated to Belgium and knocked on the heavy wooden door of the library. As they waited for the Bulgarian seeker to answer, she noticed Severus' hands clenched tightly into fists at his side. She tightened her scarf around her neck and stared resolutely straight ahead at the splintered wood of the door.

Finally the door was flung open.

"Hemione!" Viktor moved forward as if to embrace her, but she stiffened, unsure of what their relationship had been. He seemed to understand and backed off.

"Hello Viktor," she said quietly.

His gaze darted up to Snape as if noticing the man for the first time and his expression hardened.

"Snape," he greeted the man icily, leaving no doubt as to his feelings towards the spy.

"Victor, we need some information."

"Of course," he answered, narrowing his eyes at Snape as he stepped aside to let them enter.

His glare continued as he led them up the stairs, letting Severus know that this man would really rather leave him out in the cold. Viktor led them to a large reading room off of the main library.

It was Hermione that broke the silence which had settled between the three.

"Viktor, What can you tell me of my time here?"

Viktor hesitated with a quick glance to Snape.

"What is it that you wish to know?"

She picked up on the glance and turned to Snape.

"Could we get a moment alone?"

He wanted to scream 'Why? So you can fuck him again?' but he refrained. He had no claim on her, especially now.

Severus stepped back out of the room and into the stone hallway, pacing up and down as his mind raced with what he was sure must be happening inside the room. Finally, when he could take it no longer, he swung the door open. The scene on the other side was not what he had expected. Viktor sat alone on a bench, his head in his hands while the door to the balcony hung open, the white curtain lightly fluttering in the breeze.

The young man motioned towards it, "She said she needed some time to think."

Snape crossed the room in a few strides, his tone sharp and tense.

"And what exactly did she need some time to think about?"

He was answered by a glare as the Bulgarian stood, "that is none of your business, Snape."

Severus advanced towards him until they were nearly touching, unable to restrain himself one second longer.

"I think you will find that it is very much my business."

The younger man was undoubtedly stronger, but Severus was faster and he had him shoved up against the wall before he could react.

Viktor was obviously expecting to be hit because his eyes widened as Severus' wand was drawn.

"_Legilimens_."

And he was in the other man's mind, rummaging through his memories for the ones he sought. _And there she was, Hermione, in all her disheveled glory. Only a slight bulge of pregnancy showed and only if you were looking for it. She was crying on the sofa as the Bulgarian stroked her back and whispered comforting words in her ear._ He could hear the anguish, the pure pain in her sobs and knew that he had been the cause of it.

He pressed on through memory after memory of Viktor being attentive, patient, caring.

He knew men well enough to be able to recognize one in love.

And then finally a memory that was different from the others.

_Viktor held Hermione on the sofa as she sobbed, speaking softly to her. Some time had passed as her pregnancy was obviously further along._

"_He doesn't deserve you, not after what he did. You can't cry over him forever. You need to let go."_

"_I do."_

_She looked up at him and wiped the tears from her face before leaning towards him. He caught her intent at once and captured her mouth in a tender kiss that quickly grew more heated. _

"_Take me, Viktor," she whispered against his mouth._ And Severus wanted to pull out of the memory, didn't want to see what happened next but he pressed on, forcing himself to view the painful image.

_He forced himself to watch as the young man's hands roamed down her body, caressing her breast as he lowered himself on top of her as he trailed kisses down her neck._

_Severus winced as the man in the memory reached down to free himself from his pants. With his other hand, he pushed up her skirt and Severus braced himself for what he knew was coming next. But suddenly her hand was on his chest pushing him away as tears began flooding down her face._

"_I'm sorry, I can't. I can't do this." And he was toppling off the couch with a surprised look on his face as she ran down the hall. Severus let out the breath he had been holding and followed Viktor's memory down the corridor after her._

_He found her sitting on the floor in an alcove crying and sat down on the hard stone surface beside her._

_They sat in silence for several moments before he spoke._

"_You still love him?"_

"_Yes."_

"_After everything he's done to you?"_

"_I can't help it."_

_Viktor was silent for a few moments._

"_I love you, Hermione…but I think you already know that."_

"_I do."_

_She finally turned to look at him._

"_You're sweet, Viktor. You're a good friend. Maybe…maybe if I had never fallen in love with him things might have worked out between the two of us. But I do love him. Even after everything he's done to me. And I can't just ignore that. When I married him, I meant it to be forever."_

She hadn't slept with the Bulgarian seeker, but it had been close. It stung.

He slipped out of the young man's mind and turned to leave. A part of him was relieved and a part of him was furious, but more than anything he just needed…he needed to be alone right now.

He was out the door and halfway to the apparition point when he heard her call his name. As much as he didn't want to talk to her right now, he couldn't storm away without hearing what she had chased him across the grounds to say.

He spun to face her, staring at her blankly as he waited for her to speak. In her haste to follow him, she had left her cloak and scarf and she now shivered in the cold wind.

"I slept with Ron," she blurted out.

Whatever he had expected, it was not that.

"What?" was his stunned rely, as if he had not understood the statement.

Her gaze shifted to her feet.

"I slept with Ron. It was after we were obliviated. I slept with him several times around when my parents were killed. I didn't know about you at the time, obviously, about us. But I still feel…."

She looked back up at him and he looked away.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, her gaze drifting back down to her boots.

"Potter too?"

"What?" she looked up startled.

"Did you fuck Potter too?" He bit out sharply.

"No," was her cry of shocked indignation. Who did he think she was that she would go around having sex with every man who crossed her path?

"I Never…."

He was approaching her with a dangerous gleam in his eye and she had never felt more scared in her life. At least when she was being tortured by Bellatrix, she had known what to expect. But he was coming closer and she had no idea what he would do when he reached her.

He closed the remaining steps between them.

"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me."

"I'm not lying."

And his tightly restrained rage exploded into an all-out fury.

"Do you think I didn't notice the nights he spent in your room after you returned from St. Mungo's?" He screamed.

"He spent the night with me as a friend. He held me, nothing more."

"Then he would be the only one you unfaithful little whore."

His words hit her like a slap in the face and she stood there in stunned silence.

Never again, he had told himself. He was a man who had given up nearly twenty years of his life for the memory of a woman who had never even wanted him. It had to be complete loyalty or nothing at all. He would not allow himself to fall for this again.

She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry. He turned abruptly

"Don't follow me."

She watched as his form. disappeared behind the trees.

She stood in the cold watching the spot where he had disappeared. Viktor approached her from behind.

"Hermione, come inside, have some tea."

She spun to face him, the tears she had been holding in falling down her face in anger.

"You knew. You knew I had been obliviated and you didn't tell me."

"I thought you would be happier."

"I wasn't."

"Hermione..."

"Don't, Viktor, just don't," she pleaded with him.

"Hermione, I want you to know that I still have feelings for you. I know that you couldn't move past him before, but I thought that maybe now…"

She shook her head.

"I don't think so, Viktor."

"Do you love him?"

"No, I don't…" she gazed towards the spot where Severus had disappeared, "but I think I could fall in love with him again if I let myself."

"Do you want to let yourself?"

"I'm not sure," she whispered truthfully.

x

x

Severus had been just about to apparate when he realized he had nowhere to go. He had brought her to his cabin. He had given away his most preciously guarded secret. He had nowhere of his own now. The thought made him panic.

His choice was between Hogwarts, Spinner's End and Grimmauld Place. He chose Spinner's End simply on the odds that it was the place least likely of the three for Dumbledore to be.

He apparated to the overgrown yard of his home and as he turned to face the dilapidated structure that he called a house, was surprised to see that he was not alone.

A blond man sat of the steps to his house, rising as he spotted him. It was William, the man from the farm, the guardian of his daughter.

"Severus," the man said in a rough voice, moving towards him.

"What happened?" He barely managed to whisper, his heart dropping, knowing without a doubt that something was wrong. Something had happened to his daughter.

x

x

* * *

_A/N: Sorry this took so long! I was procrastinating because I didn't want to write Viktor Krum's accent....which I finally gave up on anyhow.  
_

_ In other news, I got into my top choice grad school and am preparing to quit my job and move across the country, not sure if that means more time or less for writing.  
_


	9. Rescue

The deep blue wallpaper taunted her as it always had. She stared instead at the rotting wooden ceiling, seeing the cracks and spots she had come to be so familiar with over the past years. This room, the third from the right on the second story of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, was where she had always come in times of pain.

This was the room where she had wept in agony after her parents had been murdered, the room where she had lain motionless for weeks after Bellatrix's torture had left her barren.

Now she retreated once more to her spot on the bed and let herself go to her pain. The things he had done to her…the things she had seen herself do…the things he had said to her…it had all been too much.

The pillow was wet with her tears, but they kept coming.

She hadn't realized that anyone else had entered the room until she felt a weight on the bed beside her. A blanket was pulled up over her body and her hair was smoothed in slow, calming strokes. Harry. He hadn't spoken, hadn't asked what was wrong, but had silently come to her side when she was hurting.

When she finally stopped crying, he whispered softly.

"You can tell me if you want to."

And then it all came spilling out, the erased memories, her marriage, her daughter, the betrayal, everything.

Harry listened without comment and held her silently when she started crying again. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

A knock at the door woke her and Harry rose to answer it.

"I need to speak with her," the brusque voice said from the other side. It was _his_ voice.

She buried herself deeper in the blankets, knowing what conclusions he would draw from finding Harry here in her room after the other discoveries they had made that morning.

"I don't think that's a very good idea," Harry replied, holding the door open only a crack. "I don't think she should see you right now."

She waited for the disparaging insult to come, for the acidic reply telling Harry that he had no right to decide for her. But none came. Instead, he said simply in a low, urgent voice she had never heard him use, "Something has happened."

She was up and across the room in a flash, tearing the doorknob from Harry's grasp and flinging it open all the way in wide-eyed panic.

"Come."

She stepped into his arms without question and he apparated them both.

She stepped away from him to find herself in the kitchen of a dingy apartment. Following him into the living room, she glanced out the window to find only a dirty view of a brick alley wall. The living room was no better than the kitchen. It was completely empty save for the one bare bulb that hung from the ceiling, illuminating the space.

He made no mention of the events from that morning.

"Catherine has been taken. I am going to retrieve her."

"Who…who took her?"

She looked for a place to sit down, but there was not one piece of furniture in the barren room so she leaned against the wall, relying on the grimy painted surface to keep her standing.

"Death Eaters."

She suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Why?"

He began pacing back and forth in the small room, seeming at the moment more like a caged animal than a man.

"You are aware, no doubt, that because of generations of inbreeding, many of the oldest pureblood families now have a high rate of infertility."

He paused as she gave a short nod, and then went on. She wasn't sure what this had to do with her daughter, knew only that it could be nothing good.

"They have instituted a program. All magical children are being tested. The ones that show the greatest potential are taken from their families and placed in pureblood families that cannot produce their own heirs."

He paused for a moment and took a deep breath.

"She is a gifted child."

"What are we going to do?" Hermione managed to whisper.

"I'm going to retrieve her."

He looked at her sharply.

"You will wait here."

"I'm coming with you," she instisted.

"You can't."

"You cannot do this alone."

"I won't."

"I thought you were the only spy…"

He lowered his head, letting his hair hide his face from her.

"I am, but there is someone I can trust, at least in this."

She nodded numbly.

"I will send someone to bring Catherine to you. Once you are alone with the child, apparate to the cabin and wait for me there."

And he was gone with a pop, leaving her alone.

x

x

Severus apparated to the front gate of Malfoy Manor and crossed through the grounds quickly. The house elf that opened the door for him returned a minute later with Narcissa.

"Severus," she smiled, "It's good to see you."

"Narcissa," he nodded.

"I'm afraid you've come at a bad time. Lucius is out."

"I know. I've come to speak with you."

Her posture seemed for falter for a split-second.

"Oh."

"Perhaps we should sit down."

She led him to the sitting room and nervously sat.

"Narcissa, I need you to do me a favor."

"Anything, Severus." She owed him and he knew it. He had gone above and beyond the call of friendship time after time for Draco.

"There is a girl, taken prisoner during the magical examinations and being held with the other children yet to be placed. She is my daughter. I need your help in getting her out of there without revealing her identity to anyone."

He sat silently, staring at his hands and giving his request time to sink in.

"You're asking me to betray our Lord," she said incredulously, "You're asking me to betray my lineage, to betray my master, to betray my husband."

"Yes," he said, looking up suddenly and staring at her deeply and she understood…he was not on her side, yet he had risked everything for the life of her son time after time.

The realization hit her like a punch to the stomach. This man who she had trusted for years, who she had depended on, was a spy. And she would now betray everything she had lived for out of debt to him. She owed him that much.

x

x

It wasn't hard to find the child. Among the other children being held, the girl's seriousness stood out in a way that made Narcissa sure that Severus could have no other child. Because of her family's position within the Dark Lord's circle, she was allowed to go wherever she pleased and had no trouble accessing the children. She didn't know Severus' exact plan, only that he was creating some sort of a distraction that would draw guards away from where the children were held. That left only one young Death Eater on watch that she quickly sweet-talked her way around.

With the girl finally in her arms, she apparated swiftly to the location Severus had given her.

The door swung open to reveal a girl, younger than she expected, and strangely familiar. The older woman knew instantly by the look on the young woman's face that she was the mother. It came to her suddenly, memories of photographs from the Daily Prophet. This was Potter's mudblood. If she had had any doubts about where Snape's loyalty lay, her questions were now answered.

The girl hesitated for a moment before allowing her to step inside.

Her assessing glare swept over the dingy apartment.

"You're not staying here, are you?"

"No."

There was a small matress in the corner which had obviously been transfigured. Narcissa lay the little girl down on it.

She turned to see the other woman staring at the child with a mixture of hopefulness and terror.

"Is she…"

"Sleeping…half a vial of calming draught…it's perfectly safe for children."

She took a step towards the door, but the younger woman's words stopped her.

"Please Mrs. Malfoy. What do I do?"

She turned slowly.

"Is there anything else I need to know?"

She smiled softly, remembering her own first days as a mother, remembering everything that had happened since.

"More than I could ever tell you, but you'll figure it out."

She moved towards the door once again, but stopped once her fingers closed around the grimy knob and turned once again to face the brunette.

"Actually, there is something, something you must do." The best thing she had ever done for her son.

Hermione watched her in anticipation.

"Find a powerful wizard, a good wizard, one with a strong sense of loyalty and a strong sense of duty and make him her godfather. Harry Potter is rather loyal to you?"

"Yes."

"Make sure he feels responsible for the safety of the child."

Hermione nodded. Narcissa turned once more to leave but was stopped by the other woman's question.

"Where is Severus?"

She lowered her head.

"I don't know." She paused for a moment, halfway between leaving and staying.

"He's a good man." She said, "but I guess you already know that."

With that she left, shutting the door swiftly behind her and vowing to scourgify the stink of Muggle London off of her as soon as she got to the manor.

x

x

Severus staggered towards the familiar door, exhausted and sore, but more or less alright. His daughter would be safe for now, he had at least that much faith in Narcissa.

That still left him with other problems. He had been an asshole to her earlier, he realized that now. Those things he had said...he had meant to hurt her and he had.

What could he say to her now? What could he say to her to make everything alright? He had seen in his memories how miserable he had been without her.

He paused a moment outside the door, still unsure of how to greet what waited for him on the other side. He was unsure whether she would be happy that he had found a way to retrieve their daughter, or still angry at how he had treated her earlier.

He opened the door, quickly walking through and closing it behind him. No sooner had the latch clicked in the frame than he was hit by a burst of momentum, knocking him back against the hard surface of the wooden door before he even had a chance to pull out his wand.

It was only after a moment that he realized it was a woman who had knocked him back against the door with such force and that he was currently enveloped in an embrace to tight he had trouble breathing.


End file.
